A Poison Tree by William Blake What pent up anger can do to you.
Poems forever
A Poison Tree by William Blake
What pent up anger can do to you.
I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.
Shattered fantasy
By Shafi Rehman
These pieces of my shattered fantasy
I am laughing aloud in ecstasy
Who will mend my broken pieces?
Are you here to play the role of Jesus?
These sharp stark threatening eyes
I am glancing at them with an awful sigh
How deep is the scar you’ve left behind?
I know that you will never be kind
You’ve made me aloof and indifferent
I know how to leave behind this distance
My shadows are afraid for my existence
The golden rays of sun can’t show resistance.
A saint’s past
By Wardah Farhat
Too awed to respond
Too surprised to raise my hands
All I can do
Is prostrate before You!
You have been far too kind
To a mere speck like me
My Lord!
Your infinite Mercy
Your truly unconditional love
I do not deserve.
I have been nothing
But a thankless servant
An arrogant being
A stubborn child
Too sinful too lost
Ignorant, unrepentant!
Despite all my discretion
I’m showered with ur Rehmat,
With bounties innumerable.
You showed me
The light, a gleaming hope
In the darkest of times
And a path opened up,
Unfathomable yet certain
You guided me through.
Every step along the way
I knew You were there
Every time I stumbled
You picked me up again
I rose through the ashes
Of my shattered existence
Unscathed, unhurt
Like a phoenix
I breathe anew
For everything I lost
I gained a lot more
I found myself
And
In myself
I found You!
Drought
By Arab Gul
My Love!
I didn’t stop
Writing about you;
But every word,
Describing beauty,
Seems indisposed
To describe you;
And somehow
The paper stays empty.
A buoyant dawn
By Hiba Alamzaib
I closed my eyes. I dreamed
My arms around him,
Feeling the smooth surface
Of soft cotton, merged with
Sweet myrrh and our
Dreams. My head rested on one
Shoulder, my mind afloat
Amongst a thousand separations,
And in between, were memories
Softly woven, few lacked the skill
Of an ancient weaver, but all seemed
Merry, as our feet took steps, back
And forth with the dim tune, a muse
Playing melodies in our hearts,
And us, helplessly following her
Directions, silently soothing in the
Delicate yet comforting aura of our
Dreams, desires, mistakes.
Compiled by SK
